Thursday, 12 January 2012

The Rooms - A Short Story

It began not too long ago. A young man was getting to know how life went outside the safety, familiarity, and comfort of the world he was used to. He was about to enter a scary, yet unexplored world. The supposed world of 'real'.

It began well. A window of opportunity opened, and he quickly clambered through it. In that place, the room beckoned; he will be well, he will be treated well. He was indeed treated grandly, a first among peers one may even say. In a short while, the window closed and a door opened; this room promised to be even more rewarding, even more fulfilling. And for a while, it was.

He went away for a while, and things were never the same again. His spirit and belief in the promises first of the window, and then the door were shattered in the worst way imaginable. His trust and his faith were both shaken, and he had all the right in the world to not only run out of the room, but to take the house down for what they did to him.

He decided to keep quiet, for the most part. He loved the rooms so much, for the happiness and pride he has received from these rooms that he promised to try - as much as possible - to keep the status quo. He will stay silent on the failings of the rooms, and turn a blind eye to the wrongs even as his own soul suffered. The rooms were in silent cooperation.

He went away again, for a while, to clear his head even as he has already made up his mind to give the betrayal a no-look and to stay in the rooms. He even closed the windows and doors all around. He had faith. One day, it all came crashing down; he woke up to find that the world he knew hated his name, attached it to unspeakable things. He was more than a black sheep, he was a pariah in the domain of the rooms with the windows and doors shut closed. The grand treatment was gone; in its place there was scheming, stonewalling, and most painful of all, vicious lies. 

His world crumbled around him.

Is crumbling around him.

The wish was to lay down, to pretend things will be okay. The windows and the doors have become smaller. The rooms themselves look set to wither him away to nothingness. He cannot seem to escape, to find a way out. One thing is for sure though. He will not lay down and wish for things to be okay. 

He must fight. He must fight.



  1. You've always been a fighter. Kayang kaya mo to.

  2. Thank you :) That means a lot.